All I Wanted
by jadedwolf
Summary: Mary attends a pay per view and gets more than she bargained for. I finally got up the nerve to submit a story. Please R and R. Be gentle but fair. Thanks


He tried to stop. But the force behind him wasn't letting up. Move lady, he thought as his feet left the ring and he sailed over the security railing. He struggled to curb his body but failed miserably.

I attempted to move. I could see it coming but there was no where to go. The people surrounding me wouldn't give an inch. Security tried to push them back but they wanted to see the huge man fly.

He saw my eyes widen. He knew that I knew he was going to hit me. I braced myself, which in hindsight wasn't such a good idea. Bones tend to break when they are tense.

The blow felt like someone clobbered me with a sledgehammer. All six feet ten inches of him landed in my lap. His shoulder connected with my ribs and something broke. I didn't know if it belonged to him or me.

Self preservation caused me to fight the fall. I tottered for a second, arms flailing about like windmills, before sailing through the air and crashing into the abandoned chairs behind me. Everyone behind me had suddenly disappeared. The air left my body in a moan.

We slid a couple of inches from the velocity of it all. I felt my skin cling to the floor. Call me crazy but this was closer than I wanted to get to Mark Callaway, a.k.a. The Undertaker.

"Oh god, are you okay?" He asked, sprawled across me like an afghan. His body was hot from the exertion of the match. He was breathing heavy, his face in my neck.

"Can't," I gasped for air. "Breathe."

I wanted to draw my knees up to my chest to help with the breathing but his weight kept me pinned down. The crowd gathered around us, yelling loudly. I think they were cheering for him. As a matter of fact they were saying "Holy Shit!"

He struggled to his knees, brushing long hair out of his face with a swipe of his hand. His shoulder seemed fine so it must've been my ribs that broke. That would explain the air still refusing to fill my lungs.

Or maybe he'd crushed them. At the moment I didn't care. I could feel a strange tingle in my fingers and toes and a swirling dizziness start in my ears. It was really freaking me out.

"No, don't pass out," he begged, sounding almost ridiculous in that deep voice. "Please lady, don't pass out!"

Don't be silly I wanted to tell him. I've never passed out in my life. But he faded to black before I could get the words past my lips.

I could hear someone talking outside the tunnel that I was in. Struggling to surface from the black hole, I sucked in much needed air. Pain shot through my body at the speed of light.

"Easy, just relax." A deep voice stated in my ear.

"What happened?" I tried to lift my head from the stretcher. "Who the hell ran over me?"

Mark tossed a large hand up in the air. "That would be me."

"What'd I ever do to you?" I moaned in pain.

"I tried to stop."

"I tried to move."

We spoke simultaneously.

"You need to go to the hospital." Mark stated after a brief moment of silence.

"I'm fine, it's just a few bruises." I tried to sit up. It felt like he was crashing into me again. My back screamed in protest as I stretched the scraped skin.

"No, you're not fine." He said as he placed a very large hand on my stomach to hold me down." You've got some broken ribs."

So it was my body that broke. Of course. "Just my luck," I wheezed through bouts of pain. "I finally get a great seat at wrestling and I have to go to the hospital. Can I finish out the show and then go?"

Mark looked at the trainer who looked at their boss.

"Well," he started to deny me.

"Look, I know it was an accident." Damn I hurt. I struggled to sit up, again. Mark placed his hand against my back and helped me this time. I guess he couldn't take the sight of me trying so hard and not making any progress. Or maybe he figured I wasn't going to give up.

"I couldn't move and he couldn't stop. No biggie. I just want to get my money's worth. That ticket cost a lot of money!" I stated like it was something they didn't know.

I stared them down. They just didn't realize that I would be going without food for a week because of that damn ticket.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Mark finally spoke. "I'll make sure she goes to the hospital."

Wow, Mark Callaway, my own personal babysitter. Could this night get any better? Well, except for the broken ribs and the hellacious pain I was in, it was turning out pretty good.

I couldn't yell. Or scream. Or jump up and down but I was having a great time. Mark sat beside me. I mean _right_ beside me. Every time he moved his arm brushed mine. That was better than any pain medicine they could give me at some hospital.

"I'm really sorry." God what a voice.

"For what?" I asked, suddenly stupid.

"For," he pointed to my ribs.

"Wasn't your fault," I shrugged even though it hurt like hell. It's so strange how ribs affect your body. Every move caused some sort of pain. "Chalk it up to one of those weird things that happen."

"You're being really cool about it." He sounded almost admiring.

"No big deal. What did you think I would do? Sue you?" I asked in what I thought was a joking tone.

Whoa. Nail on the head. He turned his head and wouldn't look at me.

"Oh man. If that's why you're being so nice," I couldn't finish the sentence. "Look, it was an accident. I'll go to the hospital, let you pick up the bill, and then I'll be gone. The only memory you'll have of me will be on tape."

"See, now I've upset you."

Well yeah. Here I was thinking about what a great time I was having and he was worrying about whether or not I would take him to court.

All the joy of being at the matches was suddenly gone. I hurt all over and I was certain my kidneys were showing from sliding across the cement floor with him on top of me.

"Come on Rambo. I'm ready to go to the hospital now."

I managed to make it to the parking garage, hunched over like an old woman, and of course he had a truck. Not just a truck, one that sat on VERY high tires.

"You've got to be shittin' me!" I exclaimed. Okay so it wasn't very flattering for me but I hurt damnit. He opened the door for me. What a gentleman. The look I gave him must have spoke volumes because a soft smile spread across his face and he chuckled.

"Here, let me help you."

It wasn't very graceful. He tried taking my arm and letting me brace myself on his but I listed to the side as pain spread through my body. He finally ended up just giving me a push on the tush.

"How do you do this stuff every night?" I groaned, finally sinking into the soft leather seat.

"You get use to it," he replied, flashing an unbelievably bright smile at me. "You probably need to buckle up," he stated.

"Why? I already feel like I've been in a train wreck."

He chuckled again and I found my hand curling up into a fist. Oh how I wanted to smack the man. The seatbelt wouldn't cooperate, of course. I struggled with it for what felt like an hour before giving up.

"It's stuck," I growled. "I don't need it anyway."

"Yes you do," he replied, leaning across the cab of the truck to help me. I was closer to him than I ever thought possible and all I could think about was getting to the hospital.

"There you go." His incredibly green eyes smiled at me from an astonishing closeness and I tried to smile in return but it turned out more like a scowl. Great.

He hit every pothole and bump in the road. I had a sneaky suspension he was trying to finish me off before I could get him in court.

"You okay?" He questioned once when a moan escaped my lips.

"No," I snapped. Shit. "Yeah." He hit another pothole and I rolled around the seat like humpty dumpty, even with the seat belt.

"Just ignore the injured person in the passenger seat!" I snapped again. I'm not like that. I'm laid back but, you guessed it, I hurt like hell.

He laughed. He actually laughed at me. I gave him the evil eye.

"Sorry but I was beginning to think you weren't human." Another evil eye.

"Three broken ribs can make a grown man cry," he added with a chuckle. "You've barely made a sound."

I think that was a compliment in a weird sort of way.

"Thanks, I think," I muttered.

"I'm Mark by the way. I didn't catch your name." He looked right at me, dead in the eye. Strange things happened. I started to sweat. My thighs quivered. My mouth dried up like the desert and my tongue got stuck behind my teeth.

"Mary," I somehow managed.

"Like the virgin?" He shot another brilliant smile in my direction. Good gravy what was the man trying to do, kill me?

"Well, not exactly like..," I trailed off as I realized what I was about to say. The pain evidently had dulled my senses, turned me mind-boggling dense.

"We're here." He announced as we pulled into the emergency room entrance.

The exit from the truck was less graceful than trying to get in it, if that was possible. I practically fell into his arms. No really, I FELL out of the truck. The damn seat belt tripped me up somehow. He caught me before I hit the ground but squeezed my ribs in the process. I passed out, gone, no warning. He must have been asking the gods what he did to deserve such an evening. I know I certainly did when I awoke.

And he was gone. I was disappointed but I didn't really expect him to stay. I slept most of the time anyway. The pain medication they gave me kicked in pretty quick and I was off to la-la land.

All in all, it wasn't that bad of a day.

Everyone who saw the show on TV wanted to know what it was REALLY like to get hit by a flying Undertaker. Leave it to me to get clobbered at a live pay-per-view. I couldn't stand up straight, take deep breaths, or cough without grumbling in pain and they wanted to know what it was really like.

Try getting hit with a steam roller I told them. They all thought it was funny. If I had had sledgehammer at the time I would have shown them how it felt.

The ribs were healing slowly and the hole over my kidneys had closed up when I ran into Mark again. You guessed it, I literally RAN into the man.

The rain was coming down like someone had built another ark and my front yard was a huge mud puddle. Head down against the rain and trying to very hard not to slip and fall I dashed toward the front door. Little did I know he had come to check up on me. Standing right there at the top of the steps, he didn't move when I ran up them.

"EEE!" I think that was the sound that came out of my mouth as I flew backwards and hit the ground. Bone jarring doesn't even cover it. Tears welled up in my eyes and I just lay there, in the pouring rain, looking like a fish out of water as I gasped for air.

"Damn woman!" He exclaimed, striding off the porch to kneel beside me.

"You…hate…me," I gasped, trying to point my shaking finger at him.

"No I don't but you've got to start paying attention to what's going on around you."

"HEY!" The word came out pretty strong considering the bones protruding through my skin. "I have every right to be here." Meaning, of course, that he didn't.

"Did you hurt yourself?" He asked, running large hands up and down my body. He hit a sore spot and I moaned. "Stop that!"

"You did hurt yourself."

"YOU hurt me!" I exclaimed. "YOU did this. Leave me alone."

"Let's get you out of this rain."

"Don't you touch me!" I yelled, grabbing the first thing I could to protect myself.

A large SPLAT sounded as the mud hit him square in the face. The soft look in his green eyes disappeared to be replaced with one that said "I know you didn't just do that."

"Shit," he exclaimed, wiping the mud from his eye.

"No it's not but I wish I had some to throw at you right now," I stated as I tried to make it back to a vertical standing. The mud under my feet threw me backwards and I landed hard again.

"That's it," he muttered. Before I could say anything, he slid one arm under my shoulders and the other under my legs and picked me up. I threw my arms around his neck, slathering mud all over his long wet hair, not to mention all over the front of his clothes. I almost expected him to toss me like a bag of flour over his shoulder and if he had, oh it would have been bad, let's just leave it at that.

Striding up the steps with an extra 140 pounds on his frame didn't faze him at all.

"Where's your key?" He asked. I had to think about it.

"It was in my hand," I finally said when he started to shift my weight.

"I'll buy you a new door," he stated.

"I don't need a new."

His big foot lashed out against the doorknob and my door flew back against the wall.

"Door," I finished as he walked inside. "You are just a one man wrecking crew aren't you?"

"Where's the bathroom?" He asked, ignoring me.

"Right over there but I can walk," I protested when he started that way. "Put me down Mark."

He continued to ignore me. I never realized how small my bathroom was until a six foot ten inch man stepped into it.

"What are you doing?"

He deposited me into the bathtub without one word and proceeded to turn on the water.

"Wha.." the cold water took my breath when it hit me in the face.

"You were already wet," he shrugged when I looked at him. "At least this way I know you've made it to the tub without killing yourself."

"I hate you," I hissed at him. A deep belly laugh erupted from him when I threw the soap.

"No you don't. Now hurry up cause I can't go anywhere looking like this," he motioned to the front of his clothes. "Give me yours and I'll toss them in the laundry with mine."

I must have water in my ears. Slapping my head against the palm of my hand I asked the intelligent question of "What?"

"I need to wash my clothes." He spoke slowly and loudly. "So do you. Give 'em."

"Oh hell no. Get out of here."

"Suit your self," he shrugged. "Leave me some hot water though."

"Wait!" I exclaimed when he started out of the room. "What are you going to wear while your clothes are washing?"

Thinking for a second he suddenly grinned broadly at me. "Nothing."

The door closed in my face with a resounding thud. He left me sitting there with my mouth hanging open.

"Who in the hell does he think he is?" I muttered, when my senses finally recovered and I managed to make it to my feet. I struggled with my shirt, praying I wouldn't have to ask for help to get it off. Tossing it to the floor with disgust, I pulled off my muddy boots, throwing them at the door like a petulant child and started on my jeans. Normally not tight, they clung to my legs like a second skin.

"Oh hell," I muttered as I perched my butt gingerly on the edge of the tub. The jeans refused to budge past my knees. A sharp pain shot up my side as I twisted sideways to get better leverage.

"Oh shit!" I yelled before flying backwards and landing in a pile on the floor. The door sprang open and yeap, you got it; I lay sprawled at the feet of the man who had quickly become the bane of my existence. Lay there in my bra and panties with my jeans pulled down to my knees. Embarrassing huh?

"I give up," I whimpered pitifully. "Just shoot me, go ahead, it'll be quicker. My ribs hurt, my head hurts, and I think I broke my elbow."

He merely closed his eyes and shook his head before kneeling at my feet. I didn't move when his large hands gripped the top of my jeans and peeled them off. He turned the hot water on and proceeded to run me a bath.

"The rest is up to you," his smooth voice washed over me from where he stood. "Please don't hurt yourself." Just call him a take action kinda man.

I crawled into the tub, too tired to even remove the rest of my clothes. The hot water did help with the aches and pains but my elbow was quickly becoming the size of my head. I forced myself out of the tub, stripped down to bare skin and pulled on the robe hanging on the back of door.

"You're still alive," he remarked when I stepped into the living room. Gone were the water and mud we had tracked in before and my door seemed no worse for wear.

"Barely," I muttered as I shuffled to the couch. "What are you doing here, besides trying to finish me off? I told you I wouldn't sue but I'm rapidly beginning to regret that."

"I came to ask you to lunch but that seems like a bad idea now. I only have one place I like to go too and you'd probably burn it down."

I wrinkled my nose at him which garnered a laugh.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I told you, I thought it was the least I could do," he stated as he tugged off his muddy boots. "But we can't go anywhere now. You look like hell."

"Feel like it too," I muttered.

"I'm going to take a shower while you rest," he declared matter of factly. "Then I'll fix us something to eat."

There was still the problem of no clean clothes to put on but I just couldn't handle the thought of him nude at that moment. At any moment as a matter of fact but he didn't need to know that. And if the man wanted to cook for me, well hell, it was the least he could do.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up."

I almost purred at the sound of that deep voice so close in my ear. I opened one eye to find Mark leaning over the back of the couch. His green eyes smiled at me. I smiled back and stretched. Wrong move. My body screamed in protest.

"Ouch," he grunted when my face screwed up in pain.

"Easy for you to say," I muttered. Every muscle in my body was stiff and sore. And I was pretty certain I had more broken ribs.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He stood up, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. And such nice shoulders they were too. His shirt was no where to be seen and I was afraid the rest of him was bare too.

"Shoot."

"If I only had a gun," I stated as I forced myself to sit up. "Did someone send you here to torture me?"

"Darlin', you don't know what torture is," he drawled. I felt every letter in that word…darlin'. The way he said it caused my toes to curl.

"You know, I don't think it's safe for us to be in the same room together." I stood up, very slowly, and almost screamed from the pain.

"Well it's definitely never boring."

He moved from behind the couch and I was almost afraid to look. I said almost. If Mark Calloway wanted to strut around my house buck naked who was I to argue?

Drat, he had on jeans.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he remarked.

"What?" God I'm bright.

"The look on your face. You thought I was naked."

"No I didn't," I protested.

"Mmm-hmm," was the only response I got.

"So, where's the food?" I asked after a couple of seconds of silence.

"I ate it. You were asleep for so long and I was hungry," he added quickly when I shot him a look of disbelief.

"I wasn't asleep that long."

"Try four hours darlin'."

My stomach clenched in some sort of weird ball. How could a man's voice do such things to a woman?

"You didn't have to stay."

"Well I had to wash my clothes and I couldn't roam the streets naked."

"So you just roamed my house?"

"Yeap. Passed by you several times too. You never knew a thing."

Damn. Cursed with deep sleep.

"Oh and your mom says hi and call her."

My mouth dropped open and for a second I forgot to breathe.

"You talked to my mom?"

He shrugged those gorgeous shoulders. "She dropped by," he stated nonchalantly.

"Oh my god," I dropped back down to the couch. "Oh my god."

"She seems nice."

I stared at him like he had three heads. My mother was the nosiest woman in the world. I would get the third degree for weeks.

"She wasn't at all upset by the fact that you were on the couch, nude, sound asleep with a strange man roaming your house."

"I'm not nude!" I exclaimed.

"Darlin'," there was that word again, "that robe doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Kill me, kill me now I begged a higher power.

"Especially when it falls open in certain places."

Embarrassment flooded my body. I could feel my face explode in color. I didn't see his mouth twitch into a smile or catch the fact that he was toying with me. I was too busy praying for spontaneous combustion.

"All I wanted was to see a pay per view live," I moaned. "I used all my money to buy that damn ticket and look where it got me."

Mark plopped down on the couch beside me, the vibrations sending little shock waves of pain through my body. "You're a wrestling fan?" He asked. Okay, so now who is the bright one?

"Well yeah," I muttered.

"I don't see how your luck is that bad."

Dumb as a stump, good thing he's gorgeous, I thought.

"What?" I wanted to hear his explanation.

"Well, you got to ride in _my_ truck. And I'm here at your house. How many people do you know that have ever had _ME_ at their house?"

I laughed. And it hurt. The harder I tried not to giggle the harder I did. Tears sprang to my eyes but I couldn't stop. He just sat there and looked at me.

"You find that funny huh?"

"Well," I wheezed, "you just sound so…"

"Confident?"

"Arrogant is more like it."

"Call it what you want," he stated with a shrug, "but how many women do you know that would KILL to be in your position right now?"

"My position? I hurt all over! You've tried to maim me twice! I don't think any one would want to be in my position right now," I all but shouted.

"Oh really?"

For such a large man he moved very quickly. Before I knew what was happening he had me pinned back against the couch, his large hand on my stomach and his green eyes locked on my mouth.

"Oh my," I gasped.

"What about now?" He asked, his voice like velvet.

My eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head like some cartoon character. I couldn't breathe and it had nothing to do with my ribs.

"Well, uh," I swallowed hard.

"You don't treat me like I'm a wrestling star. Why is that?"

"You sent me to the hospital," I whispered.

A slow smile spread across his face. "That I did. And I'm trying to make up for it but you just won't let me." He removed his hand from my stomach to touch my cheek. I almost expired right then and there. I'm sure he felt the shiver run through my body.

As a matter of fact his knowing grin said he did. I blushed and pushed his hand away. "Okay, you proved your point. A lot of women would love to be in this position but call me crazy for not being happy about having broken ribs, again."

"Sorry about that, I thought you saw me."

"How did you find me anyway? I mean all I gave you was my first name." The thought just hit me like a freaking blow to the head. How had he wound up at my house?

"Your hospital bill came to the main office. It had your home address on it. Oh by the way, you're expensive." And then he smiled. Not an arrogant one, not the one you might see on television but a sweet one. My stomach started doing weird things. All thought left my head. I couldn't form a sentence. I couldn't even remember my own name.

"What's wrong?" He sat up and stared at me. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I, uh, I…"

"Mary?"

Okay, most women would have been climbing him like a monkey on a tree. What do I do? I run. Well not really run, I shuffled really quickly to the bathroom. I couldn't handle it.

He followed me. Damnit, he followed me. I couldn't get away from the man.

"You okay?" He asked.

"No. You smiled at me."

"What?" He was confused, I could see it on his face. I told you I'm very bright.

"You smiled at me!" I exclaimed.

"So? I smile when something amuses me and you amuse me."

"No, it wasn't that kind of smile."

He leaned against the door and crossed his big arms across an even bigger chest. His skin looked like silk and I wanted to touch him so bad I hurt. Well, I hurt anyway but you get the point.

"What kind of smile was it then?"

"It was a sweet smile, like you like me or something." My voice dropped to almost a whisper as I dared to say those words.

He laughed. In my face. A belly laugh. Dimples sprang up in his cheeks and his eyes gleamed in amusement.

"Well there I go again, amusing you," I muttered, throwing my hands up in the air.

He finally stopped. Wiping the tears from his eyes he crossed the room to me. Taking my shoulders in his big hands, he forced me to look at him.

"I do like you Mary. You make me laugh."

"I could see that," I mumbled.

"You're just the kind of friend I need in my life right now."

Crushed. That was my heart. It fell to my knees and I felt so stupid. He said the "f" word. The word of death.

"Oh course, always glad to make a friend smile," I managed to force out. He hugged me, gently of course. I just didn't have the energy to hug him back. My arms hung limply at my sides.

"Listen, I'm going to get out of here and let you get some rest but I'll give you a call next time I'm in town and we'll do the lunch thing okay?"

"Sure." He didn't seem to notice that my voice had no emotion in it.

"I'll just grab my shirt on the way out." Then he kissed me on the forehead. THE FOREHEAD! Like I was his sister or something. God I hate men.

So it went on for about six months. Every time he was near my house he would drop by. We never did make it out on a lunch date. He preferred to stay in, saying he was tired of crowds and he just needed some down time. I couldn't help myself, I was falling in love with the man.

But who could blame me? You know what I'm talking about. The man oozes sex appeal. But he's also sweet and funny and charming. He called me every day while he was on the road. We would talk for hours.

And he liked to touch me when he came over. Nothing sexual but he would grab me up in a bone crushing hug every time he saw me. My feet would leave the floor and I would just hang there while he squeezed. Or he would place his big hand on my knee while we watched television. Sometimes he would wrestle me down on the couch and tickle me. I loved it and I hated it at the same time.

No one knew that I was friends with Mark. I didn't tell anyone. My family would never believe it and frankly I didn't think it was anyone's business. (I finally caught onto the fact that my mom hadn't really stopped by that day.) He wanted privacy when he came to my house and that's what he got. Plus I didn't want to have to answer a lot of questions

Then it happened. The telephone rang and it was a woman for him. He acted like it was no big deal. The fact that he gave my number to some strange woman didn't bother me that much. When he made a date with her, that's when I got really pissed.

Now I'm a laid back person. I like to think that I don't have a jealous bone in my body. But who am I kidding? I'm a woman. In love with him. What do you expect.

After he left for another tour, I changed my number. It just about killed me to do it but I felt like I had too. I couldn't handle the thought of him calling me when he didn't have anything better to do. Plus, if I wanted to get over him, I had to stay away. Or better yet, HE had to stay away.

I looked up his schedule and managed to make myself scarce when he came to town. I knew his schedule better than he did. I even forced myself to go on a couple of dates. Disasters all of them but hey, I had to do something to keep myself from going nuts.

I even stopped watching wrestling. I've been a fan all my life and I just quit, cold turkey. I know what you're thinking but it's a big deal to me!

I survived for about six months. I even started eating again. I didn't think about him half as much. I was going to be all right. I actually found someone that I could tolerate, he wasn't Mark but he'd do in a rush.

I know, it wasn't fair but I was determined, not to mention desperate.

Seems Mark was just as determined as I was. He tracked me down. To a VERY public, very crowded restaurant. I saw him before he saw me. His expression told everyone he was not a man to mess with.

"We have to go," I stated to my date.

"The food hasn't come yet," he whined.

"Doesn't matter," I growled through clenched teeth. "We have to leave NOW!" I stood up from the table.

"I'm hungry."

"If you don't leave with me right now you aren't going to have any teeth to chew with!"

"What?"

"Mary, introduce me to your friend," Mark stated. Everyone in the place stopped talking. It's kinda hard to miss a man of Mark's height. And width. And intensity.

"Mark," I managed to stammer out. "Long time no see." My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest and I was short of breath.

"I wonder why. Could it be that you're avoiding me?" His voice was so calm and silky. It scared me to death.

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Oh I don't know."

"Mary, do you know this man?" My date questioned in a hushed voice. Yeah, he's bright. He only called me Mary, I only called him Mark. But like I said I was desperate.

"She knows me and I thought I knew her."

"Oh what the hell is that suppose to mean?" I questioned, my hands on my hips. I could afford to be brave. I had about 50 people to keep me from getting killed.

"You changed your number."

"SO?" Brilliant reply if I do say so myself.

"We need to talk."

"So talk." Brave heart, my new nickname.

"In private."

Oh no, he wasn't getting me alone.

"I don't think so."

"I do."

My date finally decided to get up from the table. The man had a death wish.

"Listen pal, the lady said no." Oh my goodness, it was quickly becoming something out of the Wild West. I half expected them to draw down on each other.

I don't know how he did it but Mark grew taller. His eyes were the coldest shade of green I had ever seen.

"Shut up." He didn't raise his voice. If anything it dropped a notch. My date turned the strangest shade of pale and quickly sat down. Well so much for a hero.

"Come on," Mark held out his hand to me.

"No." Call me stubborn, call me childish but I did not want to be alone with him.

"Mary, I'm not playing."

"Oh really? Seems to me you've toyed with me long enough." Hah! I thought. That WAS a brilliant response.

"I want to talk to you Mary. NOW!"

"Nope," I shook my head in response. See, the problem with that is I took my eyes off him. Before I knew what was happening he tossed me over his shoulder. Like a sack of taters. No one made a move to stop him. He strode out the door and tossed me into his truck. I scrambled for the door but he grabbed me by the back of my jeans and just held on.

"I've spend six months trying to find you. You aren't getting away from me."

"I'll yell rape," I threatened.

"Like anyone would believe you," he shrugged.

"You are so freaking arrogant."

"Fact of life darlin'."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your darlin'," I mocked him.

Not a word. His concentration was on the traffic and getting us the hell out of there. I tried to loosen his grasp on my jeans but it was useless. He had hands of steel.

"I give up," I finally stated. He let go and I buckled up.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell your problem is?" He finally asked.

"I don't have a problem."

"Mary, I will beat it out of you if I have too."

"Good, the bruises will be just what the police need," I retorted.

Yes, I love the man but he just makes me so mad.

"There are other kinds of torture you know." His smile was pure evil. And sexy. And it went right to my lower regions.

"How did you find me?" I finally asked.

"I have my ways." And that was all he said until we reached my house. I didn't have a chance to slam the door in his face. He carried me from the truck, kicked open the door again, and dumped me on the couch.

"Damnit Mark, I'm not a sack!" I yelled, desperately trying to shove hair out of my face. "You can't treat me this way."

"Shut up."

Slapping me couldn't have hurt any worse. He looked at me with cold eyes. I'd seen that look but never directed at me.

"Don't look at me like that," I whispered.

"How should I look at you?"

"Not like that!"

We stared at each other for a long time. His eyes didn't soften. He glared at me like he hated me.

"You broke my heart," he finally stated.

"Huh?" My quick wit strikes again.

"You heard me."

"I heard you but I think I misunderstood what you said."

"Just give me one good explanation and I'll leave you alone."

I couldn't wrap my head around what he was saying. It was like he was speaking some kind of foreign language.

"No? I don't deserve one?"

"I don't understand."

He shook his head and his eyes were suddenly sad. It broke my heart to see that look.

"You don't love me back, I know that."

Whoa, wait, hold the phone. What did the man just say?

I shook my head to clear the clutter.

"You love me?" My voice came out in some kind of squeaky tone.

I actually managed to knock him down when I launched myself at him. He landed heavily on the floor with me on top of him.

"What the hell?"

"You love me?" I asked again.

"Well why do you think I came here on my days off? Why would I be here all the time if I didn't love you? There are other places I could have gone."

"But you said the "f" word."

He's so cute when he frowns. His eyebrows almost touched.

"I never said that."

"Uh-huh," I nodded quickly. "You called me your friend."

The laughter started deep in his gut. I could feel it. I waited patiently until he stopped laughing. "And you kissed me on the forehead."

"I kissed you on the forehead because you acted like the thought of kissing me made you sick. And you are my friend, my best friend."

"The kissing part scared me. Scared the hell out of me."

"I'm a really good kisser." There he goes being arrogant again.

Oh lord, there go my lower regions again.

"And you gave some woman my telephone number and she called you here!" I slapped his arm.

"That's what this is all about?" He really looked shocked. "That telephone call?"

"You hurt me." Well the truth is the truth.

He sat up, with me still straddling his lap. Yeah, I know. My lungs refused to pull in any air. Then he leaned back until he could see my eyes.

"That was my sister."

"Liar. You made a date."

"I wanted to tell her about you and I knew she was going to be in this area the same time I was, that's why I gave her your number."

"You could have told me."

"I never thought you would change your number and shut me out. I thought you knew that I was in love with you."

"But you never made a move or even tried to feel me up." I trailed off on that thought. Shut up Mary I warned myself.

"I tried to kiss you but you pushed me away and then you were blubbering something about my smile and I didn't know what to do. Most women throw themselves at me. Like you did just a couple of minutes ago."

He grinned and brushed my hair back out of my face. My bones melted, I was a puddle of mush.

"Would you love me if I had thrown myself at you?" I just had to know.

He didn't even think about the answer. "I think I fell in love with you when you threw that mud in my face."

"Really?"

"Yeap, you weren't scared of me."

"What's there to be scared of? You're just a big ole teddy bear," I teased.

I was suddenly on my back with him leaning over me. How he did it I'll never know but then again I don't really care. And to think, all I wanted to do was see a pay per view live.


End file.
